


Høstmørke (Autumn Darkness)

by Nordbundet



Category: Halloween (1978), Halloween (2018), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Autumn, Death, F/M, Lust, Nature, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Non-Graphic Violence, Sex, Stalking, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 02:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19241935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nordbundet/pseuds/Nordbundet
Summary: Michael Myers sexually fantasises about yet another female victim of his until he cannot control his desire anymore...





	Høstmørke (Autumn Darkness)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first official upload on this site so I apologise in advance if I accidentally included any mistakes into my work. Furthermore, English is not my mother tongue. But anyway, I hope you have fun reading this short story from Michael Myers’ point of view. I created it upon receiving a request on Tumblr. All love. ♡( ◡‿◡ )

And there she was, lying on her bed in her dimly lit room. Like leaves she was, so delicate and frail; not wanting to perish by his brute strength. But unlike the dry leaves of a lime tree in late October, her existence was meaningful to some. And if she were to crumble like dry leaves under the dirty boot soles of pedestrians in dark coats, someone would surely miss her.

Michael stepped closer to the window, taking in the scent of mother nature during autumn, following her heaving chest with his eyes. He couldn’t help yet notice the remarkable size of her bosom. The rosy buds of her nipples were peaking through the thin, white blouse that was barely providing her cover. Images of her fighting back as he was brutally hugging her throat with his hands were flashing in front of his vision. His breathing turned staccato in rhythm; he wanted to feel her embracing warmth around his manhood. He wanted to corrupt and destroy her.

The voices in his head grew more colourful by the second, ordering him to kill her. Kill her. Kill her. Kill. Kill.  _Kill!_

At this midnight hour, her skin was glowing softly in the moonlight. And his reflection was merely a ghostly swath over her window panel. The Shape shivered when the nightly wind breezed through the howling trees. Red-brown-yellow leaves began to dance on the ground with one single blast of air. He imagined her fidgeting and struggling under him with one single grasp of his.

Her existence was indeed meaningful to some. But it was meaningless to The Shape. Michael’s thoughts were often plagued with the meaning of human existence and their mortality. The Shape’s weren’t. When she was so close to him, only a stone’s throw away, her mortality was palpable to The Shape. And he wanted to be the existence responsible for her end. The throbbing pain between his legs reminded him of what he needed the most in this very moment. It was growing, growing like the voices in his head.

_You have to kill her. You have to. Do it. Do it. Do it now!_

Michael wanted to stop the voices, though he was unable to. So he gave in to their needs. And he knew he would feel relief wash over him once he became The Shape. Just like on the fateful night he ended his sister’s life. And euphoria would spread inside of his stomach. And he would feel blissful and warm.

The pulsating sensation inside of his pants was unbearable. He wouldn’t last any longer, and it was a sole matter of days with Halloween being around the corner. Michael’s palms never stopped desiring life ever since October 1963. His hands were still shaking in excitement all these years later. His being was consumed by tremoring lust, blurring the corners of his mind. He couldn’t register anything else but his thoughts on how her sweet blood would be splattering over The Shape’s face—the latex mask—and how her mouth would be moving without a sound. Much like Judith’s mouth did 15 years ago. The Shape was not capable of hearing her screams; he was only capable of killing her. Killing her. Killing her. 

_Kill her!_

Her body abruptly stopped moving under his weight after he gave her the last fatal blow with his iron hands, breaking her neck. The Shape’s fingers were wrapped around her lifeless throat, her blouse ripped apart, and his pants unzipped. The throbbing pain between his legs was finally gone and so was his mind. He didn’t know what had happened in the last couple of hours. He only remembered standing outside of her window, hidden by the comfort of the trees, watching her undress. And then everything went black, and he suddenly found himself on top of her, pinning her arms against the wooden stall bed, spreading her legs wide apart, leaving her no room to scratch or kick him while he was taking what he wanted the most. He didn’t know how he ended up stabbing her in her beautiful breasts when she was desperately fighting for her life. But he did it. One. Two. Or many more times. 

And then his lust-filled moaning tuned in to her piercing screams. 

He looked outside.

A single leaf blew through the open windows into her room. 

The night was long.  

And life had new meaning. 


End file.
